For the rest of this week, in between working fairly hard, I have been keeping very busy and all sorts of things.

Firstly counselling. I appear to be making quite a lot of progress. I have been assessing my feeling regarding my relationship with Rob, and my low self esteem issues. I have moved from guilt to anger, which is apparently a good thing, and I've made some realisations about myself. One is that the problem does not always lay with me. My low self esteem makes me think the problem is always with me, when it could be other people, and I have to work out a way of assessing and coping with that. The other thing is that I'm often accused of being fickle, changeable and shallow, changing my character for the people I'm with. However in light of the above issues, I've come to realise that I'm not necessarily changing my character at all, and its not a problem with me. My character is just fluid, and I have many complex parts that I reveal to different people as I see fit. That was a big deal for me. Other people may have a problem with it, but that's just me.

Anyway other things....

Andy and I went pubbing on Tuesday and caught up on the weeks events.

Wednesday my boss lent me her copy of the latest Harry Potter book. Wednesday then was LOTS of reading, and a review of that will follow as well. In simple and shorter term, I found it much better written than the last two, much darker, and the fight scenes were really exciting and pacey. Wednesday was also a really pleasant evening at the cinema with Nick, enjoying the Orange Wednesdays deal of 2-4-1 cinema tickets for Orange mobile owners. We appeared to be the only people left out of our group of friends who'd stayed in Southampton, wanted to see the Harry Potter film, and not yet seen it. That meant of course, we saw Harry Potter and giggled together at bits other people didn't seem to find funny, and dissected the quality of the film making on the drive home. Nick also valiantly jump started the car of a poor couple who'd run down their battery.

Thursday was exciting for me! I started a mini revolution at work, mentioning that I was going late night shopping in Southampton with Tom. Half the office decided to take advantage of the late night opening too, and we spent Friday morning discussing our purchases. I abused Primark, sent happy thoughts to the poor people in Chinese or Bangladeshi sweatshops who probably worked so hard for so little to make my cheap clothes and shopped. I bought a yellow shirt dress, a beige dress with a jewel toned floral pattern, sunglasses and a belt. The beige dress is for my Uncle's 50th birthday party as I have to look quite smart and grown up for it. Tom then whisked me off to the big 24 hour Tescos so I could get some groceries having no food in the house, and we ate a picnic supper watching the yachts at Hamble. I love the sound of the masts clanking like slightly off note bells in breeze.

For the rest of this week, in between working fairly hard, I have been keeping very busy and all sorts of things.

Firstly counselling. I appear to be making quite a lot of progress. I have been assessing my feeling regarding my relationship with Rob, and my low self esteem issues. I have moved from guilt to anger, which is apparently a good thing, and I've made some realisations about myself. One is that the problem does not always lay with me. My low self esteem makes me think the problem is always with me, when it could be other people, and I have to work out a way of assessing and coping with that. The other thing is that I'm often accused of being fickle, changeable and shallow, changing my character for the people I'm with. However in light of the above issues, I've come to realise that I'm not necessarily changing my character at all, and its not a problem with me. My character is just fluid, and I have many complex parts that I reveal to different people as I see fit. That was a big deal for me. Other people may have a problem with it, but that's just me.

Anyway other things....

Andy and I went pubbing on Tuesday and caught up on the weeks events.

Wednesday my boss lent me her copy of the latest Harry Potter book. Wednesday then was LOTS of reading, and a review of that will follow as well. In simple and shorter term, I found it much better written than the last two, much darker, and the fight scenes were really exciting and pacey. Wednesday was also a really pleasant evening at the cinema with Nick, enjoying the Orange Wednesdays deal of 2-4-1 cinema tickets for Orange mobile owners. We appeared to be the only people left out of our group of friends who'd stayed in Southampton, wanted to see the Harry Potter film, and not yet seen it. That meant of course, we saw Harry Potter and giggled together at bits other people didn't seem to find funny, and dissected the quality of the film making on the drive home. Nick also valiantly jump started the car of a poor couple who'd run down their battery.

Thursday was exciting for me! I started a mini revolution at work, mentioning that I was going late night shopping in Southampton with Tom. Half the office decided to take advantage of the late night opening too, and we spent Friday morning discussing our purchases. I abused Primark, sent happy thoughts to the poor people in Chinese or Bangladeshi sweatshops who probably worked so hard for so little to make my cheap clothes and shopped. I bought a yellow shirt dress, a beige dress with a jewel toned floral pattern, sunglasses and a belt. The beige dress is for my Uncle's 50th birthday party as I have to look quite smart and grown up for it. Tom then whisked me off to the big 24 hour Tescos so I could get some groceries having no food in the house, and we ate a picnic supper watching the yachts at Hamble. I love the sound of the masts clanking like slightly off note bells in breeze.

There's too much to get through. My review of 'Pride and Prejudice' at Mottifont Abbey to follow soon.

I spent last weekend at 'The Party 2007' at Lydia's Field near Hastings, a small music festival run by Lydia for her family and friends. The train journey there was fantastic. Rain poured nearly the whole time, and I got to show of my new wellies and my mac in sac. I've not travelled in and around London much, but negotiating Clapham Junction by myself was a challenging and enlightening experience. It sounds so silly doesn't it? But I was proud of how I managed to get my self on all the right trains. I also love people watching, and observing how different people live.

On the Hastings train there were a couple of children travelling with their grandmother, clearly going to stay with her for the weekend. I think they got off at Eastbourne. You'd never know that she was their grandmother though. Fashionably dressed, good hair, thin without being skinny, coral pink nails and be-Ipod- ed, I would have said mother rather than grandmother, if I had not been intently eavesdropping and heard them talking about their absent daughter/mother. They were so interesting. Clearly not wanting for money, the girl had just come back from summer camp and was filling the grandmother in on the gossip and what little Italian she had picked up. I think slightly to the grandmother's annoyance as she appeared to be an Italian teacher. They were so interesting, I wish almost that I could have followed them home and got to know them. But anyway...

The sun came out at Collington Beach, and by the time I got to Hastings, I felt so silly in my wet weather gear. I met up with Matt, who had invited me to the festival and we went to the supermarket to get supplies for the weekend.

The festival/party/whatever was great fun. Only really knowing Matt there forced me to talk to lots of people, and for once I was myself and people seemed to like it. I out geeked geeks on sci-fi and code, learnt a bit of poi, tramped through muddy woods to get fire wood, paddled in streams and swang on swings. The latter I had not done for years and years, and I felt so fabulous flying high in air. Such wholesome outdoorsy - ness was just what I needed.

It rained all through the Saturday night, and I did get a but damp but the sun came out so brightly on the Sunday that I could channel Kate Moss a la Glasto 2005 and waft around ing hippy dress and wellies. I got sun burnt listening to The Beautiful Word who I swear were the highlight of the weekend for me. Folky, clever harmonies, lovely dresses, bongos and glockenspiel, I was entranced. And desperate to get a CD. After that we sat by the fire and got gently drunk whilst trying to fan the flames .

It rained on the Sunday night, and was damp on the Monday and the journey home was full of knitting on the shrug I need to finish by Wednesday! Oh My!

There's too much to get through. My review of 'Pride and Prejudice' at Mottifont Abbey to follow soon.

I spent last weekend at 'The Party 2007' at Lydia's Field near Hastings, a small music festival run by Lydia for her family and friends. The train journey there was fantastic. Rain poured nearly the whole time, and I got to show of my new wellies and my mac in sac. I've not travelled in and around London much, but negotiating Clapham Junction by myself was a challenging and enlightening experience. It sounds so silly doesn't it? But I was proud of how I managed to get my self on all the right trains. I also love people watching, and observing how different people live.

On the Hastings train there were a couple of children travelling with their grandmother, clearly going to stay with her for the weekend. I think they got off at Eastbourne. You'd never know that she was their grandmother though. Fashionably dressed, good hair, thin without being skinny, coral pink nails and be-Ipod- ed, I would have said mother rather than grandmother, if I had not been intently eavesdropping and heard them talking about their absent daughter/mother. They were so interesting. Clearly not wanting for money, the girl had just come back from summer camp and was filling the grandmother in on the gossip and what little Italian she had picked up. I think slightly to the grandmother's annoyance as she appeared to be an Italian teacher. They were so interesting, I wish almost that I could have followed them home and got to know them. But anyway...

The sun came out at Collington Beach, and by the time I got to Hastings, I felt so silly in my wet weather gear. I met up with Matt, who had invited me to the festival and we went to the supermarket to get supplies for the weekend.

The festival/party/whatever was great fun. Only really knowing Matt there forced me to talk to lots of people, and for once I was myself and people seemed to like it. I out geeked geeks on sci-fi and code, learnt a bit of poi, tramped through muddy woods to get fire wood, paddled in streams and swang on swings. The latter I had not done for years and years, and I felt so fabulous flying high in air. Such wholesome outdoorsy - ness was just what I needed.

It rained all through the Saturday night, and I did get a but damp but the sun came out so brightly on the Sunday that I could channel Kate Moss a la Glasto 2005 and waft around ing hippy dress and wellies. I got sun burnt listening to The Beautiful Word who I swear were the highlight of the weekend for me. Folky, clever harmonies, lovely dresses, bongos and glockenspiel, I was entranced. And desperate to get a CD. After that we sat by the fire and got gently drunk whilst trying to fan the flames .

It rained on the Sunday night, and was damp on the Monday and the journey home was full of knitting on the shrug I need to finish by Wednesday! Oh My!

Friday, July 27, 2007

It rained on my very early journey to work from Westbury to Fareham. Work is fairly dull as I'm the admin assistant. However as is the way, the people are fabulous, it pays well and is fairly flexible, so I will complain no further. Thursday evening turned out to be especially manic and especially British.

Armed with a picnic, a waterproof jacket and a brolly, I had been invited by godparents and assorted friends to go and see a production of "Pride and Prejudice" at Mottisfont Abbey, a National Trust property near Romsey. The sky was ominous, and the air chilly so I but on my stiff upper lip and hoped. Sat in our deck chairs in the grounds of the house, we daintily nibbled at our unusual picnic items such are dried mango, ginger cake and dark chocolate. The play was excellently produced, cast and costumed.

The rain held off until the end of the second act and then it came down with a vengeance. In a spectactularly display of Britishness we were told that they'd carry on through the rain as far as possible. Half the audience left, and the other half became a sea of umbrellas. The cast were given, clear plastic rain ponchos and carried on with many a hilarious adlib...

"Come walk in the rose garden with me Jane, but don't for get your umbrella!"

...and so on. They even had real horsesand a carriage to take the cast to and from the stage. I was especially impressed with the way they utilised the abbey as scenery, it becoming the outside of Pemberly, or the doorway into an unseen ballroom as the play required.

Perhaps the best bit of the whole evening was the rip off the Darcy in a wet shirt from the BBC's artistically licenced adaptation. In the pouring rain of the evening, Darcy in a wet shirt strolinghis grounds make perfect sense. He was also quite handsome so that helped. Alot.

It rained on my very early journey to work from Westbury to Fareham. Work is fairly dull as I'm the admin assistant. However as is the way, the people are fabulous, it pays well and is fairly flexible, so I will complain no further. Thursday evening turned out to be especially manic and especially British.

Armed with a picnic, a waterproof jacket and a brolly, I had been invited by godparents and assorted friends to go and see a production of "Pride and Prejudice" at Mottisfont Abbey, a National Trust property near Romsey. The sky was ominous, and the air chilly so I but on my stiff upper lip and hoped. Sat in our deck chairs in the grounds of the house, we daintily nibbled at our unusual picnic items such are dried mango, ginger cake and dark chocolate. The play was excellently produced, cast and costumed.

The rain held off until the end of the second act and then it came down with a vengeance. In a spectactularly display of Britishness we were told that they'd carry on through the rain as far as possible. Half the audience left, and the other half became a sea of umbrellas. The cast were given, clear plastic rain ponchos and carried on with many a hilarious adlib...

"Come walk in the rose garden with me Jane, but don't for get your umbrella!"

...and so on. They even had real horsesand a carriage to take the cast to and from the stage. I was especially impressed with the way they utilised the abbey as scenery, it becoming the outside of Pemberly, or the doorway into an unseen ballroom as the play required.

Perhaps the best bit of the whole evening was the rip off the Darcy in a wet shirt from the BBC's artistically licenced adaptation. In the pouring rain of the evening, Darcy in a wet shirt strolinghis grounds make perfect sense. He was also quite handsome so that helped. Alot.

Rain, let’s start with rain. It is a bond that ties up and pervades almost everything that happened recently bar a few glorious hours. My heart goes out to those being evacuated from their homes, and facing battles with insurance companies over damaged properties. I am grateful that the rain here has been little more than an annoyance. I was going to say a minor annoyance, but it’s actually quite annoying really. No wonder I was surprised when the sun came out on my trip home lst Wednesday for the memorial concert for Nigel Gillespy, my old headmaster who sadly died a brain tumour shortly after retiring last year. I had been asked along with members of my old dance company by our then teacher Beth Brewer to recreate our piece based on the music from the sound track of Schindler’s List. We cut the part in the stretchy body bags, thinking it insensitive and focus instead on the balletic section to the main theme of the music. It is very beautiful music. I swear sometimes I control the weather or vice versa, superb warmth and blue skies accompanying my excitement at a day in the dance studio. It turned out to be a day in the gym, but one can’t have everything. I was so excited that the energy practically crackled off me, quivering with anticipation. My expectations were met. I felt like I was flying all day, releasing all the pent up energy as I danced. The catching up with old friends also filled the day with bittersweet nostalgia. We were realising that there is a fairly substantial chance that we shall not dance together again. It was lovely to dance with Sarah, a kindred spirit from my school days. However it was especially wonderful to see how far Luke had come on from the reluctant 13 year old lad. Having just finished a dance foundation course, and off to audition for London school, I was so happy to see the amazing skills he is learning, and not a little jealous. Following a dream is hard, and tiring, but the happiness it brings is enormous. I wish I was just a little less cowardly sometimes. The performance and indeed the whole concert went really well. The performances were touching and competent. I followed it with catching up with more old friends in the pub, and the swapping of new contact details. I wonder how many of these people I’ll actually see over the next few months.

Rain, let’s start with rain. It is a bond that ties up and pervades almost everything that happened recently bar a few glorious hours. My heart goes out to those being evacuated from their homes, and facing battles with insurance companies over damaged properties. I am grateful that the rain here has been little more than an annoyance. I was going to say a minor annoyance, but it’s actually quite annoying really. No wonder I was surprised when the sun came out on my trip home lst Wednesday for the memorial concert for Nigel Gillespy, my old headmaster who sadly died a brain tumour shortly after retiring last year. I had been asked along with members of my old dance company by our then teacher Beth Brewer to recreate our piece based on the music from the sound track of Schindler’s List. We cut the part in the stretchy body bags, thinking it insensitive and focus instead on the balletic section to the main theme of the music. It is very beautiful music. I swear sometimes I control the weather or vice versa, superb warmth and blue skies accompanying my excitement at a day in the dance studio. It turned out to be a day in the gym, but one can’t have everything. I was so excited that the energy practically crackled off me, quivering with anticipation. My expectations were met. I felt like I was flying all day, releasing all the pent up energy as I danced. The catching up with old friends also filled the day with bittersweet nostalgia. We were realising that there is a fairly substantial chance that we shall not dance together again. It was lovely to dance with Sarah, a kindred spirit from my school days. However it was especially wonderful to see how far Luke had come on from the reluctant 13 year old lad. Having just finished a dance foundation course, and off to audition for London school, I was so happy to see the amazing skills he is learning, and not a little jealous. Following a dream is hard, and tiring, but the happiness it brings is enormous. I wish I was just a little less cowardly sometimes. The performance and indeed the whole concert went really well. The performances were touching and competent. I followed it with catching up with more old friends in the pub, and the swapping of new contact details. I wonder how many of these people I’ll actually see over the next few months.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

I got the breakdown of my marks for this year:73 Old Testament Texts71 Group Project - The Romans in Hampshire.68 Gender and Society in France since 178960 Latin Stage 1Giving me an average of 68. Annoyingly 2 marks away from a first. However, I consider them amazing. I can do anything I want, even when it feels like my world is crumbling.Roll on next year.I had a lovely weekend. A much needed lie in in my new double bed, shopping, spending time with darling friends, a cheap and cheerful Chinese meal and a night of wicked dancing on the Saturday. Sunday saw pancakes and more lolling around in Andy and Mels fabulous house, a decadent nap and church. You heard that right church... I've been asked to be godmother to my newest cousin. So I'm biting the bullet and trying to get over my irrational fears. I also had fish and chips, watching Scrubs with friends.I feel quite alive at the moment. Like someone turned the lights on.

I got the breakdown of my marks for this year:73 Old Testament Texts71 Group Project - The Romans in Hampshire.68 Gender and Society in France since 178960 Latin Stage 1Giving me an average of 68. Annoyingly 2 marks away from a first. However, I consider them amazing. I can do anything I want, even when it feels like my world is crumbling.Roll on next year.I had a lovely weekend. A much needed lie in in my new double bed, shopping, spending time with darling friends, a cheap and cheerful Chinese meal and a night of wicked dancing on the Saturday. Sunday saw pancakes and more lolling around in Andy and Mels fabulous house, a decadent nap and church. You heard that right church... I've been asked to be godmother to my newest cousin. So I'm biting the bullet and trying to get over my irrational fears. I also had fish and chips, watching Scrubs with friends.I feel quite alive at the moment. Like someone turned the lights on.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

My mood is black, blue at best, and following Simon's advice, I'm trying to do the things that make me happy.

Thud by Terry Pratchett is a very good book. I bought it with some book tokens I discovered whilst moving house, and it was definately worth the trip to the book shop. In Pratchett's usual witty and amusing way, he has Commander Vimes trying to stop all out war between the trolls and dwarves. However, this being TP, its is actually a commentary on racial intolerance and fear of the unknown. It has both made me laugh out loud on the train and ponder my own actions. 8/10.

I am currently knitting a shrug for my sister based on a blue one I made her last year. It is a top down raglan of my own design, 4ply white yarn of 5mm needles for a loose and drapey effect. So Far I've managed about 3 inches, some of which was knitted last night in the dark whilst touring accross country lanes in a friends new car. Sarah's hoody is on hold fo rnow, as Ellie wants this shrug by the first week of August.

Hopefully a bbq and a trip to the cinema and cooking a roast for all my friends in Soton will help with the blackness. It's a bit like being chased by a huge dog this week.

My mood is black, blue at best, and following Simon's advice, I'm trying to do the things that make me happy.

Thud by Terry Pratchett is a very good book. I bought it with some book tokens I discovered whilst moving house, and it was definately worth the trip to the book shop. In Pratchett's usual witty and amusing way, he has Commander Vimes trying to stop all out war between the trolls and dwarves. However, this being TP, its is actually a commentary on racial intolerance and fear of the unknown. It has both made me laugh out loud on the train and ponder my own actions. 8/10.

I am currently knitting a shrug for my sister based on a blue one I made her last year. It is a top down raglan of my own design, 4ply white yarn of 5mm needles for a loose and drapey effect. So Far I've managed about 3 inches, some of which was knitted last night in the dark whilst touring accross country lanes in a friends new car. Sarah's hoody is on hold fo rnow, as Ellie wants this shrug by the first week of August.

Hopefully a bbq and a trip to the cinema and cooking a roast for all my friends in Soton will help with the blackness. It's a bit like being chased by a huge dog this week.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

I had been running around my new house all day moving things. Then the HBP (more on him another time...) arrived and we sat around chatting about my new house. For some reason I decided to show him my wardrobe, and before I knew it, (and as things often happen like this in dreams) we were getting...ahem... busy in the wardrobe. And then I woke up.

Interpretation:

House To see a house in your dream, represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. In general, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc. If the house is empty, then it indicates feelings of insecurity.� If the house is shifting, then it suggests that you are going through some personal changes and changing your belief system. If you live with others in your walking life, but dream that you are living alone, suggests that you need to take new steps toward independence. You need to accept responsibilities and be more self-reliant.

Man To see a man in your dream, denotes the masculine aspect of yourself - the side that is assertive, rational, aggressive, and/or competitive. If the man is known to you, then the dream may reflect you feelings and concerns you have about him.

Talking To dream that you are talking does not have any significance unless it is unusual or bizarre. Consider also if what you say evoke strong feelings or behavioral reactions. The dream may simply be highlighting your need improve your communication skills or learn to express yourself more clearly.

Wardrobe To see a wardrobe in your dream, represents a transitional period or phase in your life. Alternatively, the dream may highlight issues with your self-image and how you portray yourself to the outside world.

Kiss To dream of a kiss, denotes love, affection, tranquility, harmony, and contentment.

Sex To dream about sex, may be your libido's way of telling you that it's been too long since you have had sex. It may indicate repressed sexual desires and your needs for physical and emotional love.

I had been running around my new house all day moving things. Then the HBP (more on him another time...) arrived and we sat around chatting about my new house. For some reason I decided to show him my wardrobe, and before I knew it, (and as things often happen like this in dreams) we were getting...ahem... busy in the wardrobe. And then I woke up.

Interpretation:

House To see a house in your dream, represents your own soul and self. Specific rooms in the house indicate a specific aspect of your psyche. In general, the attic represents your intellect, the basement represents the unconscious, etc. If the house is empty, then it indicates feelings of insecurity.� If the house is shifting, then it suggests that you are going through some personal changes and changing your belief system. If you live with others in your walking life, but dream that you are living alone, suggests that you need to take new steps toward independence. You need to accept responsibilities and be more self-reliant.

Man To see a man in your dream, denotes the masculine aspect of yourself - the side that is assertive, rational, aggressive, and/or competitive. If the man is known to you, then the dream may reflect you feelings and concerns you have about him.

Talking To dream that you are talking does not have any significance unless it is unusual or bizarre. Consider also if what you say evoke strong feelings or behavioral reactions. The dream may simply be highlighting your need improve your communication skills or learn to express yourself more clearly.

Wardrobe To see a wardrobe in your dream, represents a transitional period or phase in your life. Alternatively, the dream may highlight issues with your self-image and how you portray yourself to the outside world.

Kiss To dream of a kiss, denotes love, affection, tranquility, harmony, and contentment.

Sex To dream about sex, may be your libido's way of telling you that it's been too long since you have had sex. It may indicate repressed sexual desires and your needs for physical and emotional love.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

If I go quiet for a few weeks, it is because I'm in the process of moving house. I'm out of the old one but not completely into the new one yet. High 9 Isle should have become UpperShaft as of 1st July.

My life being my life, things never work out quite right. On Friday, my Dad and I cleaned from 930am to 1030pm, scrubbing mould off walls, packing my stuff and washing skirting boards and picture rails and sewing up sofas. All the eczema on my arms has bloomed or blossomed into spectacular patches reminiscent of the four different types of mould I scrubbed from various parts of the house. There was white downy mould on the wall behind the sofa that smelt like stilton cheese. There was crumbly yellow blooming mould on the clothes and shoes I’d stored under my bed. The black spotty mould that looked like bird excrement splattered across the walls in the corners of the room. Finally there was a deep forest green mould that appeared elsewhere as it saw fit. As my Dad put it, it was a politically correct multi coloured mould household.

I’ve also learnt a valuable lesson on if you want a job done properly you should always do it yourself. Or to spell out to people exactly what you want done. Its such a shame you can’t be a nice person and get things done. The letting company inspection went quite badly thank to Hannah not scrubbing the oven till it was clean, and so Matt’s dad got onto his hands and knees and scrubbed it while the rest of us wiped cupboards and transported bikes and negotiated deposits.

The new house is inhabitable, but builders are everywhere. When I arrive, there was no carpet in the hall ways, no gas, no hot water, people painting walls, stalling washing machines, bringing in furniture and instead of a lounge, the sofas are piled high in a corner while builders tools are scattered across the floor. Apparently, they are finishing it today, and then the double beds are being delivered on Tuesday. There are some beds in there, but I am going to stay at my gran’s as the one night I did stay, I was woken by builders storming in at 8am unannounced.

I really really just want to get in there and unpacked and settled into this new chapter of my life. When the house is finished it will be lovely. My room is big and bright and airy. The bathrooms are finished to nearly hotel standard. It’s just taking far too long!

If I go quiet for a few weeks, it is because I'm in the process of moving house. I'm out of the old one but not completely into the new one yet. High 9 Isle should have become UpperShaft as of 1st July.

My life being my life, things never work out quite right. On Friday, my Dad and I cleaned from 930am to 1030pm, scrubbing mould off walls, packing my stuff and washing skirting boards and picture rails and sewing up sofas. All the eczema on my arms has bloomed or blossomed into spectacular patches reminiscent of the four different types of mould I scrubbed from various parts of the house. There was white downy mould on the wall behind the sofa that smelt like stilton cheese. There was crumbly yellow blooming mould on the clothes and shoes I’d stored under my bed. The black spotty mould that looked like bird excrement splattered across the walls in the corners of the room. Finally there was a deep forest green mould that appeared elsewhere as it saw fit. As my Dad put it, it was a politically correct multi coloured mould household.

I’ve also learnt a valuable lesson on if you want a job done properly you should always do it yourself. Or to spell out to people exactly what you want done. Its such a shame you can’t be a nice person and get things done. The letting company inspection went quite badly thank to Hannah not scrubbing the oven till it was clean, and so Matt’s dad got onto his hands and knees and scrubbed it while the rest of us wiped cupboards and transported bikes and negotiated deposits.

The new house is inhabitable, but builders are everywhere. When I arrive, there was no carpet in the hall ways, no gas, no hot water, people painting walls, stalling washing machines, bringing in furniture and instead of a lounge, the sofas are piled high in a corner while builders tools are scattered across the floor. Apparently, they are finishing it today, and then the double beds are being delivered on Tuesday. There are some beds in there, but I am going to stay at my gran’s as the one night I did stay, I was woken by builders storming in at 8am unannounced.

I really really just want to get in there and unpacked and settled into this new chapter of my life. When the house is finished it will be lovely. My room is big and bright and airy. The bathrooms are finished to nearly hotel standard. It’s just taking far too long!